Unfortunate Predicaments
by moony.rj
Summary: Haruhi muses about life in the host club, unknowingly muttering her thoughts, loud enough for a certain shadow king to hear.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Unfortunate Predicaments**

**Author: moony.rj**

**Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club**

**Pairing: Haruhi/Kyouya**

**Rating: PG13, for slight language**

**Summary: Haruhi muses about life in the host club, unknowingly mustering her thoughts, loud enough for a certain shadow king to hear.**

**A/N: **My first OHSHC fic… It was completely random and born from my boredom and complete apprehension to studying on a Friday night. Hope you guys do enjoy it:)

The afternoon was long and dragging, an unfortunate predicament for a certain brown haired cross-dresser named Fujioka Haruhi. Although the Third Music Room was equipped with sufficient air conditioners to accommodate their guests' apparent sensitive and fragile skin, the brown eyed teenager still had a few beads of sweat forming at the base of her forehead. The weather was just not compliant with her that day.

"Oh well," she muttered, "at least I'm not stuck in the sweltering heat outside for some meticulous picnic of sorts."

She sighed in resignation, remembering the last time her half-French senior try in vain to dress her in a long and lacey gown from what seemed to be the Victorian era. It was complete with a matching bodice and umbrella, especially prepared for a picnic in the academy's grounds. Expectedly, the twins were snickering in the background at her disgusted expression, whispering things to each other that the scholarship student would rather not know. She could have sworn her left eye was twitching in irritation.

As for the dress, she blatantly refused without a second thought, leaving the blonde haired President moping in a corner of the room, a dark aura enveloping him. Haruhi was accustomed to his consistent mood swings, so she paid no heed to him. The shadow king was somewhere in the background, a sly smirk pasted on his features as he jotted down notes on his infamous journal.

Watching her fellow club members fool around with the obviously smitten young ladies within the same pink, four walls as her, she sank deeper into the sofa where she was seated in, almost sure that no one was paying attention to her. A perfect time to slack around. Sometimes, she wondered why she never fell for the other hosts' charm or their wit. True, she admitted that the rich young men were indeed handsome, but strangely not enough to warrant her attention and uttermost admiration. At least not enough for her to admit to herself, anyway.

"Oh Tamaki-kun! Tell me more!" a girl squealed as she swooned from the opposite side of the room. Judging plainly from her plaited hair hung in rings, tied with somewhat gaudy purple ribbons on her petite blonde head, and seemingly humanly impossible amount of jewelry adorned on her neck and arms, the girl was definitely one of the princesses whose families Kyouya would absolutely love to have good ties with. That plan obviously progressing smoothly. The shadow king was definitely good with accomplishing anything he set his mind to, and he was, needless to say, more enthusiastic when some sort of profit in any form was involved.

Speaking of the devil, the dark haired sophomore was standing more than just a few meters away from the Host Club's President, inadvertently taking notes on his small, leather clad journal. Beneath the glare from his oval glasses, Haruhi was almost sure she saw Kyouya's eyes twinkle in amusement. Fascination? Or was it in accomplishment, the joy of a job well done? Immediately, Haruhi dismissed that thought from her mind.

The aforementioned shadow king, she deduced, would not have the capability to feel such innocent and altruistic emotions like happiness, generosity, and care. Jealousy, cunning, and selfishness were the characteristics she half-expected the avaricious, future businessman was only capable of. After all, he was the one who first imposed the arguably impossible-to-repay debt to her, which she had long neglected to keep track of, due to many other complications and additional debts within her strange, albeit interesting stay in the Host Club.

For instance, he added yet another twenty thousand yen to her ever increasing debt due to unintentionally ripping a small portion of what he claimed was an ancient 'Ming' dynasty shawl. If it was that expensive, why did he allow it to be displayed so openly that oblivious people like her would be very likely to trip over it? Haruhi smelled something fishy.

Anyway, she only saw the glimmer from his steely grey eyes before they resumed their former refuge beneath the reflection from his thin-rimmed glasses within a split second. If she had not been caught by his stunning onyx shaded eyes, the brown eyed teen would have reckoned that she just imagined such a peculiar thing happening.

Wait a minute. Hold up. Back up. Haruhi slid her thin fingers in her ruffled tresses. Did she just tell herself that the ever rich bastard, Kyouya Ootori's eyes were _stunning_?

"Who's a rich bastard?"

Frozen for a moment, the 'natural type' slowly turned around from her somewhat recline in the couch, and while muttering under her breath, met the cool steely gaze of her ebony haired sempai.

"Err, some guy in school."

Well, that was true. Just vague. Extremely vague at that.

"Oh? Is there any chance that I'd know him?"

_Great_, Haruhi's subconscious chastised, _you're sinking in deeper and deeper into a web of lies. He obviously planned this. It won't be long when you'll be paying another few thousand yen for, what, dishonesty and disrespect to your seniors? It never ends. It's still a mystery why your father worships the road Kyouya-sempai walks on…_

_Shut up, _Haruhi replied to herself_, and think of a good alibi._

"Maybe? I'm not sure if you know him, sempai…" she said with a stutter.

So much for good alibis…

"You clearly underestimate my networking skills yet again, Haruhi. Obviously we'd have to do some research on whoever that rich bastard of yours is, for him to have such _stunning eyes_." Kyouya said, aforementioned glimmer of interest returning to his bright grey orbs yet again.

"Renge's doujinshi series has been bringing some profit in," he continued, "and I reckon whoever this mystery guy of yours could nonetheless increase income of the club by allowing himself to be part of the doujinshi, letting you pay off your debt earlier. You do want that, don't you?" the vice president finished, raising his eyebrow in anticipation.

_You are in SO much trouble. _

_Oh zip it. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Unfortunate Predicaments**

**Author: moony.rj**

**Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club**

**Pairing: Haruhi/Kyouya**

**Rating: PG13, for slight language**

**Summary: Haruhi muses about life in the host club, unknowingly mustering her thoughts, loud enough for a certain shadow king to hear.**

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update, been busy this past week and work seems to just inundate my table. –Sighs– Anyway, here's to the fic! I hope that you guys continue to enjoy this fic as much as I'm enjoying it:)

**Chapter 2**

"_You do want that, don't you?" the vice president finished, raising his eyebrow in anticipation._

_You are in SO much trouble. _

_Oh zip it. _

"Kyouya-sempai…" Haruhi started after a few seconds of thought, "don't you think that interrogating me of matters in this nature is infringing my rights to privacy?"

_Finally, I'm able to think of a decent reply_, she thought with a tinge of relief.

_You're saying that now, but he's still going to come up with some kind of deranged torture method to make you pay for your insolence though_, her subconscious retorted.

_I'm not going to even try to answer to that. _

The megane-kun was slightly taken aback by her inquiry. He definitely had not expected such a statement from the demure, albeit blunt teenager. It should not have been so much of a surprise though.

_The girl is a scholarship student after all_, Kyouya mused. _Plus, her late mother was a lawyer._ _Genes…_

"Sempai?"

Jolting out of his reverie, the shadow king was about to reply to her question, but a sudden, high pitched squeal interrupted him. It took less than a second to realize where, or rather who the sound emanated from.

"Haru-chaaaan!"

The vertically challenged blonde instantaneously latched himself upon Haruhi's back, eliciting a small "umph" from her.

"Let's eat cake!" Honey-sempai started with enthusiasm dripping from his voice, his saccharine-induced smile becoming somewhat infectious. "Takashi bought my favorite today, strawberry and peach cheesecake! It's imported all the way from Switzerland, made with real Swiss cheese!"

Still trying to catch her breath, the brown haired cross dresser stuttered, "Honey-sempai… I'm rather-"

"Don't you want to eat cake with me? Have I been bad?"

As unexpected as his appearance, the loli-shota's facial features suddenly transformed from an overly zealous expression into becoming on the brink of tears. His large, marigold tinted orbs shone with tears yet to be shed. In addition, his lower lip quivered in such a way that would surely make his designations coo and get a hold of everything in their grasp to appease the irresistibly adorable young man. One might consider that Honey-sempai probably spent quite a lot of time perfecting this countenance in front of a mirror, but we would never really know.

Although she should have been used to this kind of scenario after being in the Host club for quite some time, Haruhi easily conceded. She, like the other members of the Host club, remembered clearly how a sweet-deprived Honey could be fairly lethal to those around him.

No matter how many times the thought of it, the idea of the rabid sempai never ceased to terrify her to no end. If she was not mistaken, the infamous bite scar still remained on Tamaki's arm. It was a living testimony of the reality that Honey-sempai had the innate ability to lose his cute and lovable persona and change into, excuse the language, a venomous monster from hell.

Without fail, the Haninozuka proceeded to drag the brown eyed scholarship student towards another part of the spacious room where the other tall and lanky sempai stood. The Morinozuka was carrying an absolutely luscious cake topped with delectable slices of strawberries and peaches and a generous serving of cream. It seemed that even _looking_ at the aforementioned pastry could make any individual gain calories. Yes, it was that sweet.

Kyouya stood there, almost gaping, because an Ootori _never_ gapes openly, at what happened so abruptly in an expanse of a minute before his eyes. If he were to be ever so dramatic like his half French classmate, tumbleweed would have floated past. Of course, the dark haired sophomore was not a single bit common with Tamaki in that aspect. Being the cunning future businessman that he is, he merely stood back and shifted his glasses in the angle that made them opaque; unreadable.

A small but evident smirk graced his features as he saw Haruhi uncomfortably eat the cake that was forced upon her. It was quite obvious, in Kyouya's eyes that is, that a single slice of the scrumptious concoction was more than a week's worth of her lunch money.

His smirk widened somewhat as he noticed the brown eyed girl cast sidelong glances at him. It amused him even more when she became suspiciously overly attentive to a particular chocolate stain on the sleek mahogany table when she realized that he was looking at her, as well.

_So that's how you want to play, eh, Haruhi-chan?_

Haruhi let out the breath she didn't know she was holding as the day's host club session ended. One of the last few to leave, Honey-sempai exited the Third Music Room with promises of more sugary delights of epic proportions, Mori-sempai in tow.

The twins and Tamaki had left earlier, the trio deep in conversation about next week's visit to the commoner fast food centre. It was one of the few things that they had a common interest in, and as long as they did not bother her, Haruhi did not really care.

Letting out a sigh, Haruhi carried her own bag and was ready to exit the room when the dark haired Vice President called her.

"Haruhi, I know that I was the rich bastard you referred to this afternoon."

Haruhi froze at the sound of his words, still facing the door. Shock was coursing through her veins. She had not noticed that Kyouya was still in the room, still typing away on his laptop, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes.

Nor did she really notice him get up and walk towards her.

Wrapping his hands delicately around her small waist, he whispered into her ear in a sultry tone, "The question is, what am I going to do about it?"

_TBC?_

* * *

A/N: Huahaha… Cliffhanger! Yes I am evil –smirks– If you'd want to read more of this, **please review**! It's the only basis I have to see whether I should continue or not, as my life is quite busy and I can't really spend time writing something that people are not interested in, ok?

Thanks to all the people who reviewed for chapter 1! It was really encouraging, and I apologize that I was not able to update earlier due to concerns in school and such. Please do continue to send your insights and criticism on my work:) Til next time! Happy Chinese New Year everyone:)

Notes:

Megane-kun means glasses character, which is obviously what Kyouya is. :) Another example is Kogure from Slam Dunk, or just anyone that wears specs, basically xD


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Unfortunate Predicaments**

**Author: moony.rj**

**Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club**

**Pairing: Haruhi/Kyouya**

**Rating: PG13, for slight language**

**Summary: Haruhi muses about life in the host club, unknowingly mustering her thoughts, loud enough for a certain shadow king to hear.**

**A/N: **Here's another update, done quite early, in my opinion, due to everyone's ardent reviews and comments. Thanks to everyone who did take a few seconds to type out encouraging words to me, and I humbly accept all the muffins and cookies some reviewers promised when I'd update. xD

I think this chapter's a bit bland, but we'll just see how it turns out.

I would just want to point out that I, like all of you out there, have no idea on how this fic ends.

As I mentioned before, it was quite spontaneous, and this is the main reason why it takes quite long for me to update, other than my ever-increasing academic work. Hope you all do understand :)

**Chapter 3**

Brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, Haruhi strolled down the aisles of the local convenience shop. Her large brown eyes browsed through the sundry labels on the various tin cans of tuna. _Which one should I buy today?_

It was a sunny Sunday morning, the best time, in the teenager's opinion, to do the groceries, as most of the people in the community were still fast asleep in their warm beds. Her father was one of them. Fujioka Ranka was probably snoring away in his own futon, dreaming about no one else than his beloved daughter and protecting her from a certain blonde.

The store was completely void of life, except for Haruhi, the lethargic store keeper, and her unbelievably large fat cat. Both of the latter were napping peacefully near the counter.

Although thievery could easily take place in such a scenario, most of the people living in the community trusted each other. Thus, rather than being competitive and trying to outdo one another, each person was always looking for ways to help someone else in times of need.

The town where Haruhi lived was not as unsophisticated as a hamlet, per se, but the area was not as modern as present day Tokyo, either. More like a mix of the two, the residential area was plotted just outside the central business district, making life quite diverse, the thin line between the rich and the poor alike.

The society was quite warm, friendly, and sociable, based deeply on symbiosis. However, one could not help but be a busybody, sometimes, and gossip about what nonsense the neighbors were up to. Often, the topic of such conversations revolved around Haruhi and the mysterious limousines that appeared out of nowhere from time to time outside their humble flat.

Rather, most of the ladies, especially the elder ones, were more interested in the handsome and statuesque young men (except, of course, for Honey-sempai) that exited the limousines. Who could resist thinking about the implications of such happenings, anyway, especially if their beloved Haruhi was involved?

Everyone knew that the doe-eyed girl's mother passed away when Haruhi was just a child. Immediately after her passing, Ranka, in depression-induced denial, started to overwork himself nonstop, hardly spending time at home. Worried after the young girl's well being, many of the citizens in the community served as quasi-parental figures to Haruhi.

In this way, most of the people became quite enamored by the brown eyed child. Her brusque ways of speaking and apparent boyishness were one of mere few characteristics that the townspeople were unable to refine. Otherwise, Haruhi was a dignified citizen of society, a standing she would never be able to attain when left on her own.

Perhaps, the townspeople did more than necessary in equipping the brown haired girl for the 'outside world', as even unexpected people do become easily captivated by Haruhi's wit and simple charm. Ootori Kyouya is one of them.

Seated in the driver's seat of a Honda rather than his usual Mercedes, (with his networking, he realized that the limos did attract too much unwanted, vulgar attention) the shadow king sported a pair of shades and a commoner's usual garb of a loose-fitting shirt and faded jeans. As much as he preferred his designer outfits to what he considered typical clothing, he felt the strange yearning to watch the oblivious teenager that morning. Call him a stalker, if you will, and with a click of a button, the dark haired sophomore might just sic a rabid martial arts national champion at you.

Kyouya was unconsciously rubbing his right cheek, which was a bit pink-ish, but generally not noticeable unless you really stared at his face. He was doing this for some time now, while silently observing the scholarship student look through the various fruits in display, deciding which one to purchase.

His thoughts winded back to last week, to his "one-to-one" time with Haruhi after school.

* * *

_Placing his hands around her small waist, he whispered into her ear in a sultry tone, "The question is, what am I going to do about it?"_

_The brown haired teenager shivered slightly from the contact, but nonetheless remained motionless. Her lips parted as though to say something, but she closed them again when nothing came out. The vice president's embrace tightened, but not so much that it would suffocate her._

"_What is it, Haruhi?"_

_No response came from the short haired girl._

"_Don't have anything to say? Because I think that you should be punished for having the audacity say these things about your seniors, don't you think so?"_

_His voice dropped an octave or so from its usual pitch, becoming what most females would consider sexy and seductive. To Haruhi, however, his tone seemed glazed with, ironically, an iciness that hinted a tinge of anger. Or was it hurt? _

_Kyouya, after all, was the Shadow King. If anyone could easily mask his emotions, it was him. So why was he opening up to her, now of all times? Was it a set up to get her to be in greater debt to him or something? She could easily read the twin's actions and tell them apart, but Kyouya was a different category entirely. The scholarship student was dumbstruck with the sudden turn of events. _

_Lost in thought, Haruhi remained unresponsive to the only other living being in the room. Getting irritated, the ebony haired youth released his clasp on the hazel eyed teen, gripping her shoulders instead, turning her around a bit roughly to face him. Kyouya's eyes, Haruhi noted, although in her opinion were still stunning, were indeed filled with pain that she heard from his voice. His usual stoic onyx orbs now seemed clouded with emotion._

"_Am I just a rich bastard to you? Tell me, Haruhi. Is this what I only mean to you, someone constantly after your neck just because you broke a stupid vase?" _

Slap.

"_You're being extremely childish if you think that what you said is my mere impression of you, sempai. I expected you, at least, to know that I respect you more than that."_

_With that, Haruhi wiggled out of Kyouya's loosening grip on her, grabbed her fallen bag, and walking briskly out of the room, leaving the dark haired sophomore with a bright red mark on his cheek, jaw slightly opened, stunned expression on his features. _

* * *

For the rest of the week, both members of the Host Club effectively avoided each other. When there was a club meeting, either one or the other would politely excuse themselves from each other's presence. Tamaki, Hikaru, and Kaoru seemed oblivious, being too excited about planning their outing to the commoner's fast food area. Honey-sempai seemed to preoccupied with his cakes.

It was only Mori-sempai who, after no one else was near enough to listen, offered Kyouya a rare smidgen of advice.

"You don't seem yourself. Talk to her."

Getting the quiet senior to socialize was quite an outstanding feat in itself. Kyouya did not know which was more shocking, the usually silent kendoist saying these seven words to him, or that Mori-sempai somehow found out about his encounter with Haruhi. Never underestimate the power of seniors.

* * *

_(Back to the present time)_

Kyouya's hand moved from rubbing his cheek to massaging his temples. Too many things had happened in the past week, and it pained him all the more that even with his almighty organizing prowess, he was unable to control himself from preventing something of this magnitude happening.

Finally, he noticed that Haruhi was finished purchasing the food good enough for her and her father for the week. Rolling a tinted window down as she walked unknowingly toward him, he called her name once he was within hearing range.

Somewhat uncomfortable with carrying the heavy packages of food, the voice seemed awkwardly familiar to her. Furrowing her brow, the brown eyed teen replied warily, "Sempai?"

Gathering whatever courage he had accumulated in his years training to be a businessman, he thought that this was it, now or never.

"Haruhi, will you have lunch with me? We need to talk."

_TBC?_

* * *

A/N: Yet another end to another chapter. I'm sure you all were waiting for some kind of citrus action, eh? Or at least a bit of blushing. Heh. Sorry if I misled you all. Anyway, will be making the rating of this fic higher if there is going to be any action between our two favorite characters, yeah:P

Waiting for everyone's comments and criticism:) I seriously wouldn't be this on in writing if not for the reviews I'm getting, so **please** just take a few seconds to type out what you feel about this fic. Loved it, hated it, I don't care, I need to know how this fic is going. Okay? See ya next time!

**Answers to some reviews:**

**PunkHime** - Yeah, I know it's quite fast paced, but it's also quite different from most KyouHaru fics, yeah? I did think about getting Kyouya into the doujinshi, but the thing is, he knew from the beginning that Haruhi referred to him as the stunning eyed, rich bastard, so he was just playing a bit with her while asking her who that person was, when he knew all along that it was him. Sorry for the confusion, and hope this helps :)

**theloveablechelsea** - Thanks for reviewing here as well! -huggles- lol, I did update quite early for you all, didn't I?

Thanks to everyone else as well for their reviews:)


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